William Hutson - Get Up lyrics

[Verse 1: Daveed Diggs] Game don't wait (heavy. wait.) Eyes heavy, but it's time to grind motherf**er can't be late (hold up. wait.) f** a nine-to-five, push work state to state (sh**) No work, no food still eatin' off paper plates Banana clip is a paper weight, paper mate Tell em' how you're married to the game She f**in' everybody but you still put a ring on it, on it Keep it one hunnit, homies Home is where the homies Home is where the homies got your back Get your backpack get Back to the block, bring it back to the block, sh** Slangin' crack beats cracks into Sacroiliac But the Glock co*ked back, lay another body flat [Hook: Mariel Jacoda] Here when they turn on the street lights Hustle till they cut 'em off, that's the street life Got the chrome on my hip and a bud for sale That's how I get mine, that's how I get it [Verse 2] Hustlin' is a habit So they say This is for the G's who wasn't trippin' and never knew any other way Other ways of gettin' money, not many do not require a degree of separation From the streets you gettin' paid in In which the degree of difficulty is extraordinarily high And she high while doin' it, so see why Somebody who isn't from it might not understand how you body a body in other words (How I could just k** a man) And still a gram is a gram and nobody is Instagramin' They k**in' on Cypress Hill and they still is squeezin' the hammers Police is beyond the scanners, these some obsequious bandits And brandishin' flags of function You f** a figure it's fashion that flash on a motherf**er You f**in' seeing the pa**ion forgetting the hunger This the jungle, time to get active and crack it so acrobatic it'll flip in the set But set's up and no second guessing here in the street people sweating for the money [Hook] [Verse 3] No time for wifey's babies or other collateral damage Checking for snitches, they be the ones order tacos in Spanish Always thinking that they blendin' in But then sending them telegrams to the rollers; they b**hes Not meaning feminine, meaning - f** it ain't no explaining Get the f** up and push c**aine All these f**ers gon' sleep all day But if you s** up when one of you step up to these bucks Knock if you lacing up them chucks no Taylor Gangin' This sh** is grimy and dirty, clothes stankin' while you slangin' Get up out to the blacktop Backpack for the crack rock Take shot at the cops at a spot where they knock a neighborhood watch Watch him Learn the code if them eyes are closed That means he sleeping on his feet and been out in the cold And if he flashin' the gold, he either new or want action and got back up on the toes Study all of your fractions, get up on the honor roll Roll the marijuana then flip the hoodie up and get ghost [Hook: Mariel Jacoda] Here when they turn on the street lights Hustle till they cut 'em off, that's the street life Got the chrome on my hip and a bud for sale And if you trying to take this spot, better think twice This ain't play time, you're f**ing with my life I'ma do what I gotta do to get my mill I gotta get mine, I gotta get it